Tell Me About Him
by superfluoustorequirements
Summary: Jo/Zane. Set after 'Glimpse' and inspired by Carter's advice. "Let it be." Will be continued. Rated pretty mild T for references.
1. Chapter 1

"Let it be," Jo repeated Carter's words in a whisper, going over those same three syllables again and again like a mantra - let it be, let it be, let it be…

She was trying so desperately hard to let it be, but she couldn't. Here Zane was, lying in her bed, idly tracing her spine with his fingertips as he drifted off to sleep. Jo stayed wide awake. Let it be. Let the old Zane go: forget the brunch at Cafe Diem, forget her sun dress and his rose, forget his grandmother's ring and just: Let. It. Be.

But she still loved him. The old Zane - her Zane - not this one. As much as she cared about the man lying in her bed and as much as she could, quite easily, grow to love him - it still wasn't Zane lying there. It wasn't the man who first tried to chat her up by buying boxes upon boxes of lingerie, it wasn't the man who she had curled up on the bed with in the GD infirmary, however against the rules it might have been, it wasn't the man who had asked her, Josefina Lupo, to marry him. "Not him," she reminded herself. "It's not _him_."

But still they came to each other's beds every few nights, still they kissed and had sex and held each other until the small hours of the morning. Jo knew that one day she would have to leave it behind; move on, let it be. She couldn't compare the two Zane's any longer - looking for their similarities and only seeing the differences would eventually drive her insane. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her breath catching in her throat. Let it be.

Yeah, _awesome _advice, Carter.

—

Zane knew something was on Jo's mind. She was always quiet after they'd slept together - he didn't want to think about her reasons why, that she regretted it, she wished it had never happened - but this time it was different.

He was tracing the tiny undulations of her back with his finger absentmindedly, feeling her smooth olive skin and the rise and fall of her lungs, when she breathed in deeper than before and let it out slowly, her breathe uneven, catching as it hit his chest.

His hand stilled. He knew what she was thinking about: him. The _other_ him. The him that had given her his grandmother's ring - the him that she had fallen in love with.

Zane was just a poor substitute, something to fill the hole in her heart and keep the wound raw and open, and he knew it. But no more. He cared about Jo, more than he would like to admit, and he wanted to carve out his own spot in her heart - but first he had to help the other one heal. He at least had to try.

He took a deep breath - the wrath of Lupo was one he'd prefer not to face; he'd take the Kobayashi Maru instead any day.

"Hey, JoJo?" he asked quietly.

Silence. He was about to speak up again, unsure that she had heard him, when he felt more than heard a shaky "Yeah?" mumbled against his chest.

"Tell me about him," he said. "Like, really tell me."

—

AN: So, what do you think? My first fic in a long time...

Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine. Don't even ask.


	2. Chapter 2

"Tell me about him," he said. "Like, really tell me."

More silence. After a heavy pause, Jo pulled herself away from Zane, tugging at the sheet until it covered her, and sat up against the headboard. She avoided eye contact, but said in a small voice, "What is there to tell?"

This was Jo as she never let anyone see; unguarded and vulnerable. Zane almost felt privileged to meet her - but, of course, she'd only lowered her shields because of _him_. Patience; that was all he needed. He pulled himself up beside her and said gently, "Anything. Everything. You're in love with him - even now, you're still in love with him, surely you—"

"He doesn't exist," she interrupted, a cold edge to her voice. "He never existed."

"He did for you."

Jo shook her head. "It doesn't matter. He's gone, there's no point in talking about him."

"There's every p—" Zane began, but his voice faltered when he saw Jo's face: hard as steel again, but that familiar softness was trying to burst out from underneath. She was trying so hard not to cry in front of him, it was obvious.

Zane shook his head. He'd had enough of this. "You know what, Jo? I tried. I tried to be him, I tried to… To make you happy, but—"

Jo opened her mouth in defiance, as if to speak against him, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"I'm too different. Is that it? I'm just not good enough?" He was raising his voice now: anger. At Jo or at himself, he didn't know, but the emotion was bubbling up quickly.

"No, Zane, I…"

––

Jo didn't have the words. She felt her forehead wrinkle, and she knew just how… _Desperate_ she looked. Not a word she liked to use about herself, that was for sure.

"You know, I get it," snapped Zane. "You don't need to explain." He swung his legs out of the bed suddenly, tugging on his jeans with such speed that his fingers fumbled at the zip.

"Zane! I…" Jo began again. But his back was turned on her and she could almost feel the tension radiating from him. He felt electric, as if a single spark - the wrong word or something she did - could set the whole world alight.

"It's fine, Jo. Just leave it," Zane muttered. She could almost feel the atmosphere in the room shift; Zane sounded… _Hurt_.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room again as Zane finished dressing, and Jo's head dropped into her hands. She couldn't understand. As Zane turned to leave, she finally spoke up. "Wait," she said quietly - trying to sound strong, confident; when she was actually far from either.

Zane faltered, waiting in the doorway for her to continue. Jo could see the muscles in his back stiffen and she winced. She hadn't wanted to cause this.

When she didn't reply, he said something, so softly that she thought he hadn't spoken at all.

"I can't do this anymore, Jo. Don't make me."

"Why are you acting like this? Why can't you just let it be?" She found herself repeating Carter's words, despite herself. Now it was her voice that began to rise - anger coursing through _her_ words. Why was he so frustrating?

"Because I'm in love with you, Jo!" Zane replied hotly, spinning to meet her gaze. "I've fallen in love with you, but you're too busy missing _him_ to realise it!"

Jo couldn't believe what she was hearing. Stunned into silence, she fell back against the headboard, unable to break eye contact with Zane.

"There, I said it." He took a deep breath and Jo could see his fists clenching and unclenching constantly by his sides. "I shouldn't have asked you about him," he continued, "But I'm not sorry. I can't stick around here anymore, waiting for you. Can't you realise that?" He didn't hang around for a reply and, before she knew it, he was gone.

Jo didn't know what to think. It was so far from the Zane she knew, to be giving up like that, that Jo was taken aback, lost for words.  
>But, of course, it <em>wasn't<em> the Zane she knew. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and her hand was drawn automatically to her throat, feeling for a familiar chain. But it wasn't there. She'd thrown it at him – in a fit of… Anger. Frustration. Whatever you wanted to call it. He'd come back, that time, unrelenting: demanding more information.

This time, though, he wasn't going to. What was she supposed to do now?

––

A/N: So...? This was more difficult to write than I thought, but I had the help of a lovely friend who sorted out my (terrible) grammar! Love to know what you thought, if you have the time :)

Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine. Don't even ask.


End file.
